The Darkest Torment (Lords of the Underworld 12)

“Kill,” Pandora said.

“Good idea. Don’t mind if I do.” Anya, the second intruder, jumped up, kicking Baden with enough force to rattle his brain against his skull.

Goddess, anarchy, threat. Friend!

How better to lure us into a trap...

Next she plowed into Pandora. The two hit the ground, Pandora attempting to stab her as they rolled.

“Help the others, Baden.” Katarina, still using that gentle tone. “Yes? Don’t hurt them. They need you.”

His attention switched to her; the dogs stepped to her side and growled at him. To warn him away? No one keeps me away from her! He snapped his teeth at the animals.

“Maddox, a little help, please.” Anya swung at Pandora, only to be blocked.

Pandora laughed as she crushed Anya’s knuckles in her grip.

Maddox launched his body in front of the goddess, taking a punch meant for her. His jaw snapped out of alignment.

Kill! Destruction focused on Maddox.

No. Baden dove, managing to twist midair, aiming for Pandora instead. They rolled down a hill. Before they came to a stop, she sank a dagger into his side. Jab, jab. His kidney received the bulk of abuse, and if he’d been human, he would have bled out then and there. Scowling, he wrapped a hand around her neck and the other around her wrist, holding her in place while cutting off her air supply.

Does she even need to breathe?

The need had slowly come back to him. Perhaps the same was true of her. He increased the ferocity of his hold.

She struggled against him, clawing at his arms, shredding his skin.

Boom!

The ground vibrated, a blast of heat blustering over him. He would have fallen if he hadn’t already been on his knees.

“Bomb!” Anya shouted.

Pandora’s doing?

Maddox bellowed the names of his family members as he took off in a mad sprint, Anya right on his heels.

“How many did you set?” Baden demanded of Pandora.

“Not...me.”

“Baden!” Katarina cried. “Help me!” He heard pain. Had she been hurt? “Please.”

He broke Pandora’s neck before leaping to his feet and climbing the hill. She wasn’t dead, wasn’t even forced into unconsciousness. Her narrowed gaze followed him while her body could not. He found Katarina on the ground, a long wooden beam pinning her leg and Biscuit’s hips. She and Gravy worked furiously to lift the beam, but neither was strong enough.

Boom!

Another blast of heat threw Baden across the yard. He rose quickly, closing the distance once again, ripping away the beam with a swipe of his arm. “Can you walk?” Blood leaked from a wound hidden underneath her skirt as he helped her stand.

She should have cried.

She didn’t cry, and it almost broke him. Nothing should be denied to her, not even tears.

“I think so,” she said, her voice trembling. Streaks of dirt coated her cheeks. “What’s happening?”

“Up there!” Pandora shouted.

If not for the soul-curdling screech that erupted from the sky, Baden would have ignored her. His gaze shot up, quickly finding a hideous winged creature hovering above the fortress, smoke wafting all around him. He had crimson skin, two thick horns protruding from his scalp. Sharp yellow claws extended from his hands and feet, and a smaller horn protruded from each of his heels. He wore a flesh-colored loincloth. Leathered human flesh?

With an evil grin, the creature held out his hand. A ball of fire grew over his palm, the flames a mix of black and red. He aimed at Baden.

All Baden could do was grab Katarina and the dogs and flash to the holding cell where Aleksander remained, before the three were hit. The room was untouched by the violence that had taken place aboveground, the bastard still chained to the wall. He would be unable to reach Katarina.

“As long as you stay on this side of the cell, he can’t hurt you,” Baden told her. Destruction banged against his skull, enraged, ready to return topside and kill. “Patch your thigh and stay here.” Not that she could leave without him. “Do not get near the man.”

Boom!

The walls rattled, and dust filled the air.

“Don’t leave me here, Baden. I—”

No time to argue. He flashed to the fortress. Or, what remained of it. Amidst the rubble, he caught sight of a fine-boned hand, fingernails painted pink. Ignoring the beast’s desire to hunt the new enemy, he rushed over and dug through stone and debris. Strawberry-blond hair finally came into view and his stomach sank. Gwen—Sabin’s mate. Her eyes were cloudy, her chest motionless. Soot and blood caked her cheeks.